"'Cahoots--I reckon it was "Cahoots,"' the judge said. 'You ought to be named that, you little black rascal!' Well, the story got around, and so it was, and from that day forth the black boy was 'Cahoots.' Cahoots, whether on the plantation, at home, in the halls of the Northern College, where he accompanied his young master, or in the tragic moments of the great war-drama played out on the field of Malvern. "As they were in childhood, so, inseparable through youth and young manhood, Robert Fairfax and Cahoots grew up. They were together in everything, and when the call came that summoned the young Virginian from his college to fight for the banner of his State, Cahoots was the one who changed from the ease of a gentleman's valet to the hardship of a soldier's body-servant. "The last words Fairfax Fairfax said as his son cantered away in his gray suit were addressed to Cahoots: 'Take good care of your Mas' Vaughan, Cahoots, and don't come back without him.' "'I won't, Mastah,' Cahoots flung back and galloped after his lifelong companion. "Well, the war brought hard times both for master and man, and there were no flowery beds of ease even for the officers who wore the gray. Robert Fairfax took the fortunes of the conflict like a man and a Virginia gentleman, and with him Cahoots. "It was at Malvern Hill that the young Confederate led his troops into battle, and all day long the booming of the cannon and the crash of musketry rising above the cries of the wounded and dying came to the ears of the slave waiting in his tent for his master's return. Then in the afternoon a scattered fragment came straggling back into the camp. Cahoots went out to meet them. The firing still went on. "'Whah's Mas' Bob?' his voice pierced through the cannon's thunder. "'He fell at the front, early in the battle.' "'Whah's his body den, ef he fell?' "'We didn't have time to look for dead bodies in that murderous fire. It was all we could do to get our living bodies away.' "'But I promised not to go back without him.' It was a wail of anguish from the slave. "'Well, you'll have to.' "'I won't. Whah did he fall?' "Someone sketched briefly the approximate locality of Robert Fairfax's resting place, and on the final word Cahoots tore away. "The merciless shot of the Federals was still raking the field. But amid it all an old prairie schooner, gotten from God knows where, started out from the dismantled camp across the field. 'Some fool going to his death,' said one of the gray soldiers. "A ragged, tattered remnant of the wagon came back. The horses were bleeding and staggering in their steps. The very harness was cut by the balls that had grazed it. But with a light in his eyes and the look of a hero, Cahoots leaped from the tattered vehicle and began dragging out the body of his master. "He had found him far to the front in an abandoned position and brought him back over the field of the dead. "'How did you do it?' They asked him.